Half & Half
by Spunky Lily
Summary: [Tru Calling Xover] AU Faith always had her Slayer powers, but she lacks the dreams and instincts of one. While in New York, she discovers her twin, Tru, and a new darkness that threatens to kill the entire population of Slayers.
1. Confusion

**Disclaimer:** I own neither _Tru Calling_ nor _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. If I did, you'd see a lot more of the Lindsay/Harrison lovin' and… well, you'd also see him in boxers and/or a bunny suit a heck of a lot more often.

* * *

**Half & Half**

**Prologue: Labor of Love**

* * *

_"What's wrong with her? Why isn't she crying?" –Mary Jane, 'Spider-Man' (the comics)_

* * *

**Boston, Massachusetts**

**1981**

* * *

_I'm going to kill him._

Elise Davies vowed those words within her mind, and almost said it aloud, but another scream erupted from her mouth. The contractions were hitting hard—and extremely often—and this one was the most painful yet. But what could she expect? She was in labor with twin girls in the back seat of her mother's station wagon. It was _going_ to hurt. After what seemed like forever, the contraction stopped abruptly.

"How long until we get to the hospital?" Elise questioned between pants.

"About five minutes," came her mother's answer from the front seat, in a muffled, panicked tone. "Hold on, honey."

Elise was scared, too. This was her second birth, as her other daughter, Meredith, was home in New York with her father. The man whom she was going to kill after this was all over.

Oh God, why did she _have_ to visit her mother _this_ weekend?

She had decided to visit her mom, Brooke, to cheer her up a bit, despite her husband's warnings. She was eight months pregnant, and sure enough, being the stubborn young woman Elise was, went anyway. And now she was in labor. And—"Arraagh!" Elise yelled. "I _am_ going to _kill_ Richard!"

* * *

"Mrs. Davies, you're fully dilated, so all I need you to do is push."

Elise nodded; sweat dripping from her forehead as she held an iron grip to her mother's hand. "_Push!_ Okay, one more…" the doctor urged, and a slight wave of pain came over her, then the sounds of screams filling the air. "You've got a beautiful little girl." He said, and although in was dressed in scrubs and had half of his face masked, Elise could still see a smile across his face. "Got any name ideas?" he asked, cutting the cord and gently handing the infant to a nurse to get her cleaned up.

"Tru…" Elise whispered. "Her name is Tru."

A few minutes later, she found herself pushing out her now third daughter, hurting all the while. She could feel the blood flow from between her legs. _Something isn't right…_

She gave a final push, and Elise could see Tru's twin. But still, there was something odd, something out of place.

Silence.

"Why isn't she crying?" Elise interrogated, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes. "Why isn't she crying?"

_My little Faith, what's wrong?_

* * *

**Chapter One: Confusion**

_"Hallie, I mean Annie. I mean Hallie. I mean… whoa." –Marvis Jr., 'The Parent Trap'_

* * *

**New York**

**Present**

Ever since Faith had been called, life had been different. Like she was stuck in an action movie 24/7. Not a fun let's-save-the-world-from-aliens action movie; more like the ones where _everyone_ got their asses kicked to the moon and back. She was the Slayer. Sort of.

Her first watcher, Ana (I don't know the real name of Faith's old watcher, so I'm improvising) had explained the whole deal to her, and her watcher's rantings and explanations of the underworld, the one filled with scary monsters from under the bed, only worse. The idea of vampires and demons was received with lots of skepticism from Faith. When Ana had spoken of the dreams of girls, Faith didn't understand. She never had any strange dreams, other than the occasional nightmare, and didn't know what the hell Ana was talking about.

That was, until Kakistos came and killed Ana.

Faith had come to terms with the fact that she didn't have the 'Slayer dreams', but still had yet to understand why she never received them. And here she was, in a little town in New York with her newly purchased motorcycle as her only companion. Faith didn't plan on staying long, a few weeks at best, but the vampire activity was pretty high for a non-hellmouth vicinity. Hence, she had a job.

Currently strolling around on the streets in the midday sun, she had an expression of fatigue plaguing her attractive face. She had finally gotten used to her prey's nocturnal schedule, and the daytime usually didn't suit her.

"Hey Tru! _Tru_!"

A young guy approached her, catching up speed, then began to walk alongside Faith. "Hey, I was talking to _you_, sis. You seem kinda out of it today."

"I'm not your sis… so, go away."

"Hey, I'm not that embarrassing to be around." He shot back.

"Just—go away."

"Fine, Tru."

"The name's Faith, kid." She corrected as he walked off. "Wow, the people in this town are messed up."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Bwahahaha! Poor Harrison, he's so confused ;)

Anyway, press the sexy purple review button if you want me to continue.


	2. Happy Birthday!

**Author's Note:** Aha! Reviews really do get you what you want, and if I remember correctly, this is the most reviews I've ever received on a single chapter of a story! So this is definitely a priority!

Aren't you all proud of me? Two updates in one day? Hells yeah. (God I love that old-people-talkin'-getto-fabulous-commerical)

Italics=Dreams, or strong feeling

**Pairings For the Story: **Fwahahaha! The pairings: Faith/???; Lindsay/Harrison; mild Xander/Dawn (yes, they're coming into the story eventually); mild Tru/Davis; Buffy/???

**About "How did Faith not come to be with her family?": **It's one of the more potent questions of the story, and I'm not going to answer it for a very long time.

**P.S.: **This is post-Buffy series finale, and post-Tru Calling season finale. So how does Harrison/Lindsay happen? Oh, I'll be happy to answer ;)

* * *

**Half & Half**

**Chapter Two: Happy Birthday!**

* * *

_"I am the Slayer, yadda, yadda, yadda. I am the only one who can destroy the vampires the demons, and the forces of darkness, yadda, yadda, yadda. And above all, I've got these wacko faboo dreams. Woo hoo." –Buffy (Novel)_

* * *

_On the terrace of a rather beautiful apartment building, two women barely within their high school years fought. Their right wrists handcuffed to one another, so neither could escape this fight. One a slim, short blonde, the other a well-muscled brunette, looked each other straight in the eye._

_"What's the matter? All that killing, you afraid to die?" the blonde asks, although it was more of a taunt than anything_

___   
  
The brunette spun her opponent so she could get the leverage to use her legs and manages to snap the handcuff chain. They face off._

Faith, the brunette gripped a length of pipe. Buffy unsheathed a rather decorative, beautiful knife.

"That's mine." Faith stated venomouslyBuffy almost smiled. "You're about to get it back."They exchanged blows, Faith dodging the knife. They moved to the edge of the terrace and Faith held Buffy at the edge."Man, I'm going to miss this." Faith stated.Buffy broke Faith's grip, plunging the knife into her opponent's abdomen. Both of them looked stunned for a moment.

_"You did it." Faith smiled weakly, throwing Buffy away from her. "You killed me." She climbed onto the low wall at the edge of the terrace and glanced down. "Still won't help your boy, though. Shoulda been there, B, quite a ride."_

_  
Faith fell backward off the wall and landed in the bed of a moving truck. Buffy scrambled to the wall and sees the brunette's body, unmoving, ride away._

_Tru, Tru, Tru…wake up Tru!_

"Tru! Tru! Wake up!" Meredith shook Tru's body viciously, smiling at the first signs of her consciousness.

Tru groaned. "I'm up, I'm up, calm yourself." She yawned, stretching out momentarily, but suddenly let her limbs fall to her comforter. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't give me that crap, Tru." Meredith responded, and then sighed after a while. "It's your birthday!"

"Oh… uh… right." Wow; how could she forget that it was her birthday today?

"Harry's supposed to be here, too, but the jackass had to run off to get—" Meredith cut herself off, realizing that she shouldn't be informing Tru of her birthday presents. "Something." An opening door could be heard ringing in their ears. "Speak of the devil." She got up from sitting at Tru's bedside, walking down the hallway.

"Nice timing, Harry," Meredith greeted with a strange, rare amount of sincerity.

"Well, we missed her. I saw Tru in the street when I went to pick 'it' up," he gestured to the oddly shaped package that appeared to be moving. "She seemed pretty genuinely pissed off. And she has a motorcycle." Harrison emphasized.

"Harrison, what are you talking about? I just woke Tru up!"

"No way… you couldn't have… I saw her!" he argued. "In the flesh. Outside. In broad daylight."

"You feelin' okay?" Meredith asked.

"Yes, I am feeling O-KAY!"

"Jeez, Harrison… just asking… it's not like Tru just has some twin walking around."

Meanwhile, Tru dressed quickly, and despite her birthday being imminent, if not already here, she still had work, lives to save, the works. "Another day," Tru muttered, pulling on a shirt. "Another wacko dream."

She recalled the dream once again; two girls fighting. Even before Tru could develop her earliest memories, there were the dreams. Always a girl, always fighting. They were the priestess, the police officer, the socially inept teen, the peasant. Anyone. And there were the monsters, the things that went bump in the night. All the things you thought were just under your bed. And she was fighting them. She was them. Or, at least, that was the only way Tru could describe it. And the dreams; they were getting worse. Coming more often than ever, and hitting hard and fast.

But she refused to revel this to anyone at all. That would just spark her father's worry, Meredith suggesting a therapist or something like that, and Harry just thinking she was some wack job.

As she thought of the dream again, the brunette looked so similar, almost identical to her…

No. It's just a dream. Nothing big. At all.

Harrison and Meredith entered her bedroom again after Tru had fully dressed and was ready for work at the morgue. Harry handed her the package, badly wrapped, and if Tru could see correctly, shuddering. "Uh… Tru? Uh… happy birthday…" he eyed her strangely.

"Who died?" Tru asked sarcastically.

"Harry's just going nuts," Meredith began. "He thought he saw you in town this morning." She explained rationally. "This chick, like, gave him a psychological kick in his ass."

Tru smiled a little, tearing away at the wrapping, which she noticed, had holes in it.

_"What did you just say?"_

_"Buffy, they're dead. Lorne just called. Angel, Spike, Gunn… everyone."_

_"Dawn! You stupid little liar! How can you say something like that?"_

_"Buffy… I—I… I'm telling the truth."_

_"No you aren't… they… they can't…"_

**_TRU!!!_**

"Holy crap! Harry, call 911 or something… oh, Tru, thank God… you… you just passed out." Meredith said all of this very fast. Something warm and sticky was touching her cheek. A tongue?

A small, rather scrawny looking half-grown puppy, a black color with a wishbone-shaped white patch on its chest was the licker of her cheek. Tru sat up from the floor of her bedroom. "You got me a dog?" she smiled a bit.

Harrison, helping Tru up, nodded. "We got him from the shelter. He doesn't even have a name yet—"

"Are you alright Tru?" Meredith interjected.

"I'm fine… I… I just, I don't know…" Tru sighed. "I better get to work. Would you mind babysitting, Harry?"

"No problem birthday girl." He grinned, picking up the small canine.

* * *

Tru entered the morgue slowly, pulling on a white jacket as she called out, "Davis! Davis?" He apparently wasn't there. Which was weird, because Davis was never one to be late for work. Maybe he's just caught up in traffic?

"Holy shit."

Tru heard a voice, her own voice, and turned around. "Oh my God! Who are you?" she snapped.

It was Faith.

* * *

**Next Chapter:** Lindsay's back, and babysitting Tru's puppy with Harrison; Faith attempts to kick Tru's ass; Faith and Tru realize who they are…

… all that and a bag of chips!


	3. The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

**Half & Half**

**Chapter Three: The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows**

* * *

_"Hello there_

_the angel from my nightmare_

_the shadow in the background of the morgue…"_

_—Blink-182_

* * *

"Now _stay_ asleep," Harrison commanded of the small, limp young dog as he placed him gently in his makeshift bed. It was a fairly large cardboard box for a computer or something like that, and lined in warm, old blankets for the feisty little pup to chew on, tear up, and sleep on. He stared down at the small little thing. He'd tried to figure out what to call it for the past hour, since Tru had left for work earlier than usual, but that was for Tru to decide. Rain splattered on the windows in his sister's small apartment; there was a huge thunderstorm rocking the city outside.

His eyes finally left the juvenile canine in its environment to the overused couch splayed in the living room's center. Harrison flopped on its soft, ancient cushions, grabbing hold of the remote.

The door whined open.

Harrison sat up, and then got off of it completely as he met the new visitor. "L-Lindsay?" he managed to stammer. And indeed it was the glorious young woman who held his heart (metaphorically speaking, anyway) in her clenched fists. She nodded silently, covered from head to foot in dripping water. Her pallid face was especially wet, but Harry noticed it wasn't the rain outside that had dampened her features; it was tears. With puffy, red, crying eyes, she looked at him for two seconds, and then wrapped her arms around him, burying her face and sobbing loudly into his shoulder.

And as much as Harrison wanted to ask why, as much as he'd like to know her purpose here, he knew that her presence was far better than any explanation.

* * *

8

"Who the fuck are _you_?" Faith snarled, returning the question with far more hostility. She fumbled for the stake in the back pocket of her jeans, then clenching her fingers around it with the Slayer's iron grip. With her other hand, she grabbed Tru's shoulder, slamming her into a wall, then pinning her against it.

"Do you always steal your victim's identities and looks before you murder them?" Tru snapped through the throbbing pain radiating from her spinal cord.

"I'm not a serial killer. I don't kill… humans." Faith thought about this sentence for a moment with hesitation, an emotion she wasn't quite familiar with.

"Oh, and the pointy stick your gonna jab at me totally says you're not a killer. And if you don't kill humans, what are you? Some freaky animal killer?" panic was coursing through Tru's voice, but she didn't want _her_ to know it. She searched her white jacket pocket for a knife, scissors… anything. Finally, a cold, metallic, sterile knife used for Y-incisions in autopsies slipped into her grasp.

Faith smiled slightly, "You wanna know the truth?" she asked the rhetorical question, her voice almost a bit hoarse. "I kill vampires. Demons. Drive a stake through their hearts just like on all of the horror movies that haunted your daydreams and nightmares." She added a bit a of sarcasm, knowing that this evil clone or whatever the hell she was wouldn't believe her in a million years.

_Great, _Tru thought. _She's crazy and she's got a stake. _But suddenly, the dreams flooded through her mind, brief flashes. The girl. This was the dead girl. The girl in the back of the truck. Tru attempted to squirm away from Faith's grasp. "Who _are_ you?"

"I'm Faith," she informed her. "And you are?" she said this with a drawl, and it was almost hostile.

"Tru Davies," she answered with equal threat in her identical vocals. _Faith… that was the girl… in my dream… oh my God… _"Buffy," Tru began. "Do you know her? She's blonde and—"

"What the hell do you _want_ from me?" her already merciless grip tightened.

"I don't want anything!" Tru shouted into Faith's face, a shimmer of dust showering from the plaster on the ceiling. Faith suddenly let go, and she started to back away.

"What's your birthday?" she asked suddenly.

"July 13th. Today." Tru replied, a bit shaken as she continued to grip the knife in her pocket if the need be.

"W-Where were you born?" for the first time in her life, Faith stammered.

"Southern Boston…" Tru's voice seemed to be distant.

"Oh my God…" Faith's eyes widened as her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. "I… this explains it…" she looked up at Tru with wide brown eyes. "Tru… Tru, I think we're… sisters…"

"Twins."

* * *

Dawn peered from behind the texts filled with ancient Medieval Italian manuscripts. "Buffy?" she piped up quietly, closing the thick book.

"Yes?"

"It's happening."

* * *

The teenage boy sprinted away from his attackers, running faster than he ever did in P.E. But they loomed closer, grabbing the back of his shirt and slamming him into the earth. The taste of dirt and grass lingered in his mouth, giving a gritty texture in his mouth. He groped blindly for his glasses, which had been knocked off of his bloody nose. His hand finally found them, but it was crushed under the shoe of Chuck Kruger, ringleader of the bullies and jocks (they were basically under the same category in his high school). "Lookin' fer somethin', Ronniekins?" Chuck asked sardonically, picking up the ruined glasses. The group around him laughed in union with Chuck.

"L-L-Leave me al-alone!" Ron demanded.

"Oh, who's gonna stop us, freak?"

Suddenly, a deep drone of a voice rang in their ears, except it didn't… it was in their heads!

_Leave him!_

Chuck backed away suddenly, then ran with his friends, shouting. "Jesus, Ron, you _are_ a freak!"

_Ronald, open your eyes._ Ron had his eyes clenched closed, but opened again. His sight was clear. _Get up._ He did, looking into the woods beyond his school. There was a piece of the woods that seemed out of place. Like a distorted image.

_Come to me, Ronald. Come to me, and come to everything you desire._

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ah! That ended with a slightly 10th Kingdom-ish feeling, don't you think? Like when the evil stepmother is luring Virginia's mother into the nine kingdoms to finish her work? Uh… never mind…

**Next Chapter:** 'The Two Halves'; Lindsay and Harrison spend some time with Tru's puppy (the Lindsay/Harrison section will be a LOT longer, too); Davis shows up late for work, and totally freaks out when he sees Faith and Tru; and… I can't tell you _everything_ –winkwink-


	4. Return To Me

**Author's Note:** To Allen Pitt: Oh my God, someone else has read "Fray"? Awesome comic book, and that's where I got the premise for this story. Let's just hope that Tru doesn't turn out like Harth!

**To Darklight:** I totally agree. Sorry 'bout that.

**To Panther28:** So many questions! What's wrong with Ron? Oh, you'll see. He's outside of his school (I kinda inserted that somewhere in that part, I believe). I'll tackle the other questions in this chapter or somewhere in the story.

**To elfin2:** I'll work on that, if I can ;)

* * *

**Half & Half**

**Chapter Four: Return To Me**

_"So this is how many apocalypses for us now?" —Buffy, 'The Gift' _

* * *

_Planes are so clean._ And Dawn liked it. The orderly, corporate smell, and the infinite number of wrappers in her snack basket. She admired the snack itself, which in its glossy wrap looked a lot like a Chinese finger trap or something of the like, but it was to her pleasure a chocolate bar. And this was no cheap Hershey's bar that still tasted fine and dandy, it was genuine gourmet chocolate. She bit into it nervously as she looked down through the window. The Atlantic Ocean spread out beneath the aircraft, a steel gray in the darkness of the treacherous storm. Most of the Scooby gang was asleep by now, despite that the it was the latter part of the afternoon.

Her blonde older sister Buffy was one of the many who still lurked within the dreams that were accustomed to the Slayer.

_"Oh, Elise, we're so sorry for your loss."_

_Joyce Summers whispered the sentence into her half-sister's ear, embracing her in front of the horrifyingly miniature casket. Joyce, too, was a mother, and understood as well as anyone of her the young woman's grief. Well, if that were to happen to Buffy…_

_The little baby in her husband's arms was asleep, and oblivious to the sadness surrounding the tiny, blonde infant. Hank was already seated in the back of the chapel with Buffy, and waited for Joyce._

_Joyce and Elise pulled away from each other, but Elise suddenly grabbed her half-sister's hand, and whispered in her ear. "I know I haven't really been there for you, big sis, but thank you for coming." Her eyes were swimming in ears as she finished, and the misery parade continued._

_Joyce seated herself next to her spouse and daughter, grateful that her family was alive and well._

_She noticed that across the aisle, closer to the casket was the younger half of the Davies family, Meredith, a young little girl, and Tru, the surviving half of the twins that had been born a week ago today…_

_A petite five-year-old girl, garbed in a pink dress and sporting black pigtails and bright green eyes walked up calmly to Elise, and whispered…_

"Buffy," Dawn nudged her elder sister, six years her senior. "The plane's gonna land soon." She informed her, getting up. "I better wake Xander, Willow, Giles, and Oz up too."

"Okay," Buffy replied groggily. Another dream… but it didn't seem like the Slayer dreams she usually had. It was a funeral. And her mom and dad were there… everybody looked so familiar…

"Hey Buffy," Willow had turned around her seat, which was in the row in front of her own, her chin resting on the top of it. "Are you sure Dawn's right? I mean, hey, primordial evil is something we've totally dealt with, but still… this is really big."

"This is _really_ big," Buffy repeated. "I just hope that this isn't it. The end, I mean."

* * *

"I can't believe Randall would _do_ something like that," Lindsay finished, a few stray tears still swimming in her eyes as she accounted the tale on the couch, Harrison sitting on it with her. "I can't believe he would _cheat _on me… especially on our honeymoon, of all times…" she sniffled a little, then met Harry's gaze. "Am I boring you?" she asked, a small smile curving the ends of her lips.

"Oh _no_, not ever," Harrison replied, with a strange amount of sincerity in his voice. "I'm just—" he cut himself off, no one speaking for a while.

"Just what, Harry?" she inquired, her fingertips touching his hand.

He sighed. "Lindsay, I still haven't gotten over you. I don't think I ever will, because there's no one in the world that I can imagine being with other than you. I—I'm just happy that you're here." He knew that this probably wasn't enough to sway his ex-girlfriend, who happened to be Tru's best friend

"Really?"

A small knock on the door interrupted Harrison's answer, and he got up off of the couch to answer it.

"Uh—hi… I—um, I'm Lily… I—I live in the apartment down the hall," the clearly shy, blonde, four-year-old informed Harrison. "A—Are you T-Tru's brother?" she asked, looking down at the carpet.

"Uh, yeah." Harrison answered, curious of what this little girl, Lily, wanted.

"M—My Mommy and Daddy went to the hospit—hospit—hospital" she struggled with the pronunciation of 'hospital'. "Because Mom's havin' a b-b-baby, and I'm all alone in my ap-apartment. I'm scared. I don't like storms. And being all alone. Can I stay with you guys for a little while?" Lily questioned, her voice faster and a little uneasy.

Harrison nodded, not noticing a pair of unnaturally ice blue eyes peering outside the window, in the rain…

* * *

__

_Ronald…_

The creature greeted him as he entered the piece of forest that looked out of place, which, in actuality, was a portal. The school forest was now replaced with a steaming tropical jungle, in total darkness. The only illumination was two horrible blood red eyes, the pupils silted, and blood veins that really stood out, lacing the edges.

_Ronald, I've lived since far before your time, and I've come to despise your kind. I want revenge. And you do, too._ It began. _Those bullies picking on you, your horrid social life, your dead parents thanks to a mob in New York City being bored. You want vengeance for what caused those things, do you not?_

"Yes." Ron answered, his voice almost sounding as if it was hypnotized. "Revenge."

_Then be my servant, carry out the tasks. I've waited for too long in the underground the pathetic, disgusting humans had driven me into to do nothing. I've decided, though, to wait a small amount of time to make the humans and the Slayers wish they were dead. Drive them into wars, a Great War, my loyal servant. Destroy the Slayers, first, though. Strike their leader's heart, ram it into despair. Make the two Halves wish they were dead. And then grant their wish. Kill them._

"But how am I to do this?"

A large sword fell onto the ground, its blade red and aflame, carvings of runes and other ancient texts all over it.

_Use this, and go to the New York. Unite the vampires from a hellmouth in New York City, and lead them here… to the two Halves._

"Who are the two Halves?"

_A Slayer, separated into two entities. A Slayer of vampires and demons. And you will become the Slayer of Slayers. You know of these so-called myths, true?_

"Yes, sir, my father was a Watcher."

_Disgusting. But you are the only one who can do this. Take the blade, and lead them. Kill them. And you will be rewarded, my servant._

Ron picked up the blade, grasping it firmly and smiling. He felt stronger. Faster. Wiser. He started off to the portal, but the voice of the creature stopped him in his tracks.

_You are Ronald no more. You are T'healal, welder of the Flames._

* * *

The pair of brunettes stood stoic amidst the metal tables covered with corpses draped with white cloth and the tools used to slice them open. Each stared at the other with heavy brown eyes, each silently pointing out the identical similarities. That was, until Davis, Tru's coworker and friend entered the morgue, explaining himself.

"Sorry, Tru," the bearded young man began with an apology. "It's just that things just started happening so fast and I totaled my ca—" Davis's eyes suddenly caught onto Faith. "Oh my God."

"That's what I keep saying." Tru replied. "Uh—Faith, this is Davis, Davis, this is Faith."

"Huh?" was all he could say.

"Apparently, we're twins," Faith said, eyeing Davis's expression. "Yeah, I know, I'm thinking the same thing."

"What would that be?" Tru asked.

"'What the fuck is going on?' would sum it up."

In the bleak, sullen shadows of the morgue, the icy blue eyes appeared once more, but this time, they came out of hiding.

She had a slender, delicate-looking frame, long brown locks streaked with royal blue jutting through the mousy brunette. Her torso and limbs were encased in an exoskeleton-like leather outfit, and the edges of her face and collarbone area were laced with blue scales.

It was Illyria.

* * *

**Next Chapter:** Buffy and the Scoobies arrive at the morgue as Illyria explains the War; T'healal rounds up the vampires to attack Tru's apartment; ... ... and ... ... some more stuff ;)


	5. The Worst Of It

**Author's Note:** I cannot apologize enough for not getting this story updated for so long. I had a case of writer's block, but now that's all cleared up. I hope you guys are satisfied with this chapter; I stayed up until 2:30a.m. to get this baby done.

* * *

**Half & Half**

**Chapter Five: The Worst Of It**

_"I come to you at the turn of the tide…"_

_—Gandalf, 'The Lord the Rings: The Two Towers'_

* * *

Illyria tilted her cranium nearer to her shoulder, as she often did, her unblinking eyes unswayed by the few distractions the room had to offer. Her mind repeated the instructions she'd received at the word of an ancient power, knowing that if one single word was lost, if one simple item was forgotten, the world would be in turmoil. These humans would be hostile, this she knew, but her strength was a formable rival to the Slayer's, so Illyria would likely not become injured. She assessed the instructions mentally one last time, just as the Slayer had fixated her gaze on her.

"Could this day get any weirder?" Faith asked no one in particular, just staring at Illyria for a moment. The blue girl seemed familiar, but Faith couldn't place her. Then it hit her. "Holy shit—Fred?"

Illyria smiled as Wesley had taught her, but this time, it wasn't on purpose. It was at random. "Winifred Burkle is my shell—I inhabited her." She said it lightly, as if it would explain everything.

Tru and Davis looked even more confused than Faith did, if that was possible. Fighting the urge to attack Illyria, Faith questioned venomously, "Who _are_ you, then? What did you do with Fred?"

"Fred is dead. They all are. Angel, Wesley, Cordelia, Gunn, and Spike—"

"Spike?" Faith repeated. "He died a year ago."

"He lived," Illyria corrected. "And died once more."

And for a moment, it finally sunk in; she was stunned, shocked, whammied. Angel Investigations dead? How could that be? He knew them all, some acquaintances, others she'd known since she arrived in Sunnydale all those years ago. For a moment, she didn't move. She didn't even breathe.

And another revelation dawned on her. This thing must've done it. Wordlessly, she slammed Illyria against the morgue's wall. "I was only the cause of Fred's perishment!" Illyria yelled, pushed Faith away effortlessly. She had lost much of her original strength, but the potency of her power still remained. "I am a messenger," she added, as Faith prepared to recoil.

"For what?" Davis asked, almost 100% sure he was dreaming.

"The Powers That Be," Illyria answered, making Davis and Tru even more baffled. "The War is coming."

"What war?" Faith snapped; she was quickly losing her patience.

"A War to end all wars, a war between the vampire and its Slayer. An ultimate battle—one that will not decide the freedom of a country or a claim to land, but the fate of all of the races of the Earth. And you, bitter, dark Slayer, are the epicenter of this War."

Faith was really despising the way Illyria was addressing her. Only one other had called her dark Slayer. "You must fight, along with the fated Slayer and the light Slayer."

"You mean Tru and Buffy?"

"Yes."

Tru spoke up, suddenly, "And what if I don't want to fight in this war, uh?" she asked forebodingly. "It's not like working for some higher power hasn't ruined my life already," she paused. "I had someone I _loved_… a lot, but _no_, that wasn't enough, was it? Luc had to die because I'm fate's bitch. I don't want the future of the world in my hands anymore and—"

"WAR IS INEVITABLE!" Illyria interrupted crossly, yelling. "You have a purpose, and you are to fulfill it, whether you have a claim of anger against the Powers That Be or not, you _will_ do this. You do not have a choice." Her voice held hostility within it still. "Your opportunity is a gift, not a privilege."

"Some gift…" Tru mumbled. "Allow me to take this opportunity to _not_ care about the fate of the world for once!"

"Just listen to me; you and everyone you love will die screaming if you do not attempt this task. A warrior is being apprenticed by the most ancient, dark beast imaginable. It was feared in my time, even by the demons that are consistently feared beyond reckoning in this time. You must stop him… he will strike this place, making no haste, striking quickly and lethally as a cobra. He will come soon, and it will follow."

Illyria suddenly looked away, "My time here has past, and I must depart… forever…"

"What—who are you?" Faith questioned.

"Illyria."

And with that, she was gone.

* * *

The remainder of the day was spent with explanations, stories from each side of who they were as people, and who they were as supernatural beings. Loose ends were tied and they each had a better idea of who they all were. But fond memories were exchanged as well.

In the middle of one such story (one involving Faith, an ice cream cone, and a Great Dane), the morgue doors opened, and Faith was surprised, not for the first time that day.

Buffy, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Giles, and Oz walk through the door; all eyes on Tru and Faith.

"Dawn, slap me, please," Xander requested.

"Why?"

"Just slap me." She hit him hard, her hand stinging the surface of his cheekbones. "Okay, I'm _not_ dreaming."

"Faith has a clone?" Willow piped up.

"No," Buffy smiled, making eye contact with each of the Davies girls. "A sister."

* * *

"Harry! I'm home, and you won't believe—"

Tru's pupils dilated as she came upon one of the most horrifying sights her eyes had ever looked upon.

The furniture was shredded and crushed, and everything was broken. Faith, and the Scoobies entered cautiously, Tru thoroughly frightened.

Buffy and Dawn began to clean up the broken pieces of furniture, "I guess someone's looking for you." Buffy surmised.

"It must be that warrior guy Illyria was talking about. He probably sent some vampires after Tru. They probably weren't too happy about not finding her here." Oz added, and from the looks of it, he was probably right.

Tru couldn't hear what her sister's friends were saying, though. She was too worried about her brother. "Harry!" she shouted hoarsely, shifting an overturned couch.

Harrison. And Lindsay.

Two fang marks were pricked into their necks, and Tru prayed they were alive. Kneeling down, she franticly searched for a pulse. They were both alive. Just barely.

Faith entered the living room, where Tru was panicking. "Oh, God." Faith said. "It's that idiot I met on the street this morning… is that?"

"Your brother?" Tru turned to Faith. "Yeah. Harrison. The idiot."

"Who's the other?"

"Lindsay, my best friend… call 911, they need _help_!"

Dawn, who just entered as well, scurried off to the nearby phone.

Faith picked up an overturned table and…it's Lily. She's dead. They didn't even feed. They just snapped her tiny neck. Her twisted little body crumpled on the floor, milky white eyes open and staring at nothing, with her tears still wet on her face. _Damnit, she must have been so scared._ Faith thought, on verge of tears.

Tru's eyes caught on Lily's body, instantly recognizing her neighbor, and she burst. "Faith…" she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not even a real Slayer, I apparently just have the history. The dreams. I'm not sure about anything anymore… and it scares the hell out of me. But I know that fighting is what I need to do… what I should do.

"Faith, let's make some war."****


	6. Guidance

**Half & Half**

**Chapter Six: Guidance**

_"I don't know whose side I'm taking_

_But I'm not taking things too well…"_

_—Michelle Branch_

* * *

A crisp, cool breeze blew through the midsummer evening, allowing the soaring trees to shudder a little in its wake. Under one such large oak located in the city's implausibly large cemetery, Tru Davies wept. Her whole body was continually shaking, swathed in the tears falling without any sign of ceasing from her red eyes. She stared at the granite headstone jutting up from the grass, her mother's body six feet below. Even between sobs, she couldn't speak a single word, but once or twice attempted to. Finally, a single choking sentence escaped her lips, aimed at the gravestone reading 'Elise Laura Davies'.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because last time you saw her, you were a kid. You weren't ready."

It was just a suggestion.

"You bastard." She hissed, staring up at Jack with angry, loathsome eyes.

"You don't get it, don't you Tru?" Jack replied calmly. "Do you actually think I _enjoy_ killing people?"

"Well, you've made it a little bit evident." Tru replied, scorn still lacing her voice.

"I don't question your motives, Tru," Jack continued. "… but did you ever think of the damage of letting someone live does to the world? People die and live who aren't supposed to die and live. It alters the rift. Harrison was supposed to die, Luc was supposed to live… you know why?"

"If Luc was supposed to live," Tru responded, not bothering to answer the question. "Then why did you kill him?"

"You are a bit slow, aren't you? They can't coexist in Death's design. And thanks to you saving your brother, Luc wasn't the only one who had to suffer. The design isn't in black and white, Tru. It's in all shades of gray. One death affects everything."

Tru blinked. "Why are you here?"

"Just to clear the air," Jack shrugged, his voice still a bit hostile. "Just to show there are no bad guys."

"There are bad guys," Tru said thickly. "There are good guys. I'd just like to believe that my morals are more righteous than yours. You say that I'm contributing to more chaos? I'm saving people who weren't meant to die. They ask me to help them for a reason. And I'm not letting you win anytime soon." Her fist, holding a bouquet, unclenched and dropped the flowers to the ground.

"Those two have no idea what they're up against."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I admit, it's a REALLY short chapter, but it's all my muse had up for grabs. 


End file.
